


Barty's babysitting

by Shinigamy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But in a way of teens being teens and dumb, Common it's just magical teenagers!, Family Issues, Ron Weasley Bashing, harry potter is sassy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinigamy/pseuds/Shinigamy
Summary: Yeah I dunno yet. I upload it now for a friend, will properly add taggs later.





	Barty's babysitting

"Potter! In my office!" Moodys voice barked at the young Potter who had been twitchy the past lessons. It was only natural as the first tournament was getting closer and the boy who lived must have found out about the dragons by now. After all he took care of it.

The boy was small for his age and incredibly thin and his obedience and twitch at the bark was all too familiar. And this was the boy who killed the dark lord? Well as a baby, which doesn't make him automatically a powerful warlock. Either way, when he first layed his eyes upon Potter, he was surprised to see a frail young boy with curious but sad eyes. When he walked through the halls, he tried to hide from the other children, preferably behind his friends. After entering the tournament, unwillingly and of course despite everyone's belief, he found out quickly who were his actual friends. That Granger girl and Longbottom were two of the very few to stuck around with him. Stupid children. Potter would have never been able to enter the tournament on his own. It was clear he didn't want it! And for Merlin's sake he would have loved to crucio the blood traitor Ronald Weasley for his lack of brain. At least he got to punish this ferret of a Malfoy.

Green eyes looked around his, Moodys office, with innocent fascination.  
"What is this?" He asked and pointed at one of his instruments. "That's a Foe-Glass. Lets me keep an eye on my enemies. If I can see the whites of their eyes, they're standing right behind me."  
The boy nodded, practically inhaling the information about the glass. As he did in all his lessons. Harry was a bright boy, given he was interested in something. But that is the job of the professor, to keep the students interested, right?  
"So ya found out about the first tournament."  
"Sir how am I supposed to defeat a dragon?"  
Well this wasn't about defeating, rather than surviving.  
"Potter what are your strengths?"

The boy was thinking, he was taking far too long for such a clever and talented boy. He heard that Potter could cast a full Patronus and that was something some adult wizards never mastered in their life.  
"I suppose I am good at flying?"  
"I heard you are excellent at it. Too bad there won't be any Quidditch games this year. I would have loved to see you play. Maybe even against this Krumm."  
The boy opened his mouth and closed it. Was he really that unfamiliar to taking compliments? Well not growing up with his arrogant father must have done a lot. He just wasn't sure exactly how much.  
"But I am not allowed to bring my broom."  
"You're a wizard, you have a wand, boy!"  
Harry's mouth formed an embarrassed "oh" and he sunk his head, eyeing the floor with sudden interest. This brought back his earlier question about how much. He would have to gather information, more than just the obvious ones about his circumstances. Where was he even living? His blind amazement for magic matched the one of a mudblood. Not Grangers, she read and knew all about it, stealing the excitement about magic from herself in a way. She was brighter than most other students though. But Moody was bothered by the fact that Potter had just as much potential if not even more if he would believe in himself and his talent and would work on it. Not that it mattered. But still, wasted potential.  
"Heads up boy, I have just the right spell for you. Come into my office this weekend at 10 am and we will train the Accio. Read up on it first. Without Grangers help!" Moody lifted himself out his seat and hobbled to the kitchen corner of his room.  
"Hot tea Potter? Helps calming your nerves."  
"No thank you sir."  
So polite, and he was a troublemaker? Well Severus was dripping with hate for Potter who looked almost like his father, but it was foolish to think of him as James. If Severus ever bothered to look at him and in his eyes, he would see the significant difference.  
"Any biscuits?"  
"Thank you sir, but I really must leave now!"  
Moody nodded and his glass-eye dug uncomfortably into Harry's green ones.  
"Very well, 10 am Saturday, be there in time!" The boy nodded and rushed out the room, not without closing the door carefully. 

It was Saturday 9:55 am, when a soft knock made Moody lift his head from the book. With a raspy sigh he held onto the page trying to memorize it's number and then put it aside.  
"Come in!"  
The door slowly pushed open with the raven head stepping in. Moody lifted this heavy body out his armchair with a grunt and waved Harry to come closer.  
"Now did you read on the spell and practiced already?"  
"Yes professor."  
"Did it work?"  
"No sir."  
Holding onto his huge wooden staff he dragged himself toward the Potter boy who looked at him as if he was expecting to be scolded.  
"Heads up Potter, have you tried calling your Firebolt?" Moody asked and more or less smiled down at Harry. The craters lining his facial landscape ruined every nice or calming effect this should have caused.  
"No, I thought a cup would be easier first."  
"Hah, no it is not. What do you think makes spells work better and easier?"  
"Practice?"  
"Not entirely wrong, but no Potter. It's emotions. Many spells if not most are based on will and emotion. The Patronus is strong because you are, and your will to protect loved ones."  
"But what does that have to do with the cup?" Harry asked confused, while his brain slowly processed his own question.  
"Exactly!" Moody barked and pointed at the boy who jumped a little in shock.  
"Nothing, there is no emotional bond to this cup."  
Amused Moody watched how the gears in Harry's brain put one and one together.  
"So summoning my broom will be easier?"  
"Probably. Ronald Weasley will make a dumb face when your broom flies out the room!" Moody encouraged Harry even further. And it worked. A little spark of mischief sneaked into the green eyes.  
"Not more than usual I suppose!" Shocked at his own sass the boy closed his mouth immediately, but Moody laughed at it. Though the sound of his laugh could have been someone choking on the Weasley toffees as well. So the boy smiled again, though Moody could spot a little worry. Harry never knew when someone was suddenly dying around him. A bad habit of his environment.  
"Good one Potter, now let's get started!"

"It's no use, sir." Harry sighed frustrated and clenched his fist around his wand. The Firebolt hasn't bothered to show up yet, even after an hour of trying. Moody was aware that this was not a simple spell for a fourth grade student, despite that, he wasn't certain Harry hadn't succeed but the broom rather got stuck somewhere else. Maybe even because of Harry's roommates. You never knew.  
"You are doing everything right boy. Come, take a break and drink some tea." Moody was about to pat the boys shoulder but stopped midair and decided against it. He could already see the wince that was about to happen. What exactly was this boy going through? So he changed the attempted pat into a wave towards the chairs.  
"But I need to succeed sir! The dragon-" But the Ex-Auror cut in sharply.  
"Potter. You will. But not if you don't take breaks. Else you will use up your magical energy."  
The raven head still didn't look very happy about it, but frustration wouldn't get him anywhere.

In the meanwhile hell broke loose in the boys bedroom. The broom was indeed listening to it's summoners call, but three boys kept it from leaving the room. But just as the three it put on a brave fight. Especially since all three didn't want to destroy this expensive and precious broom of their roommate. The brushwood head of the broom repeatedly hit Ronald Weasleys butt who had tried to find cover under the bed, while Seamus tried to pull it away from the boy. He was just dangling from the stick he held onto and was thrown through the air, while Dean Thomas was busy gasping for air between his laughter.  
"Dean for Merlin's sake help us!" Sean whined and clinged on for dear life.  
"I... Try... But... You hahahaha should see yourselves!" Dean giggled, but tried to hit the broom with a freezing spell. Instead he hit Seamus shoulder who yelped at the cold and let go of the broom and fell with a 'thump' on the, gladly carpeted, floor.  
"I take it back, stop helping!" Finnigan groaned and gave up on saving Ron. The redhead had crawled entirely under the bed and was now mostly safe. The broom lost it's interest as it had defeated it's attackers and returned to thumping against the door. Until it suddenly stopped midair and fell on the floor.  
"Huh?" Was the only thing the boys could add to that and eyed the wooden thing in suspicion. All three expected the nightmare to start again if they would come closer. Maybe it was a trick to make them feel safe and open the door? Dean was the first to move and grab a pillow off the nearest bed as shield. Carefully he crept towards the Firebolt on the floor and then poked it with his wand. Out of instinct he ducked behind his pillow right after. But nothing happened. Slightly braver and under the watch of his friends he poked the stick again. Once again nothing happened and all three boys sighed in relief.

"Professor why are you helping me?" Harry asked with the big cup of mint tea in both of his hands. Moody ignored his cup and took a swig out his little flask and suppressed a shudder in disgust. The taste never got better.   
"Because Dumbledore is only allowed to help one student. Because there usually is just one champion per school."  
The boy frowned at this, the entire unwilling champion thing really got to him. Well it would get to everyone who was confronted with their names on buttons specifically designed to bully them. Moody had collected and burned most of them. But he was furious, that was even happenig without any intervention by the heads of the houses. He himself could only do so much. But he knew bullying was just as present in his school time. Dumbledore loved to look away especially if the bullies came from his favourite house. What he didn't get yet is why he let the students bully his golden boy? What was the purpose?  
"No worries, we get you through this tournament in one piece. Dumbledore is a good wizard but I dare say I am pretty decent as well. A little damaged true, but still working well enough. I, unlike my enemies, came out alive."  
He wasn't even sure why he cared for this Potter boy in front of him anyway, but the more Harry trusts him the easier his task was. Either way his words had taken the frown of the teens face and brought his fascination back.  
"Ready to give it another go, or want to return tomorrow?"  
"I think i can give it another go!"  
A few minutes later, hell broke loose in the dorms again.


End file.
